Beth's Story
by PepperjackCandy
Summary: Part of my extensive Collinsport universe. This one explains how a statuesque blonde ended up with the surname "Chavez." Beth/OMC


**Beth's Story  
Originally Published on: 8/14/00**

_Author's Note: I researched the history as much as I could. I don't know if it could work this way in our universe, but since this is Beth's history as it fits into my Collinsport universe, I figured what the heck! _

King Wilhelm District, San Antonio, 1895

"Elisabeth!"

"Yes, Papa?"* Tall, willowy Elisabeth Oppenheimer looked up from the desk, where she was writing a letter to a friend from her boarding school days.

"That carpenter's here again and I can't find your mother. Deal with him, please."

"Yes, Papa." Elisabeth's heart began to flutter in her chest. Dared she hope that the handsome carpenter was there to see her?

She stepped into the entryway of their stately home and walked over to the handsome young man.

"May I help you?"

He nodded. "Your father paid me too much yesterday. I came to give the extra back to you."

Elisabeth felt deflated. He was so handsome and charming, yet apparently he didn't find her attractive at all.

He handed her the money. "Thank you." He said quietly as he stepped back out onto the front porch.

She closed the door behind him and stood in the entryway for a minute, willing herself to calm down and trying to raise her spirits.

"What did he want?" Her father called to her.

"He had to give us a refund. We overpaid him."

Her father strode into the room. "What?"

Elisabeth was about to hold out the money, when she noticed that he'd given her more than just a handful of bills. There was a white sheet of paper among the bills. She took the sheet of paper out and gave the money to her father.

"What's that you have there?" He asked.

"I don't know. I guess it got mixed in with the money by accident."

"I'll send Frank out to return it to him."

Elisabeth surprised herself when she responded. "No. Don't bother. He can't have gotten that far. I'll take it to him." Before her father had the chance to object, she had picked up her bonnet and headed out the door.

"Excuse me!" She yelled down the street. "You! Carpenter!"

He stopped and turned to face her. "Me?"

"Yes." She caught up with him. "This got mixed in with the money. I didn't read it, so I don't know what it is, but I thought it might be important."

He gave her a charming smile, his white teeth flashing in his dark face. "Thank you. It was a list of things I have to make for customers. I would have lost a lot of money if you hadn't brought it to me."

Shocked at her boldness, Elisabeth said. "I suppose we should introduce ourselves. I'm Elisabeth Oppenheimer."

He smiled at her and bowed slightly. "Pedro Chavez, at your service."

* * *

On Sunday, the Oppenheimers attended mass at St. Joseph's, the German Catholic church in town. After mass, Elisabeth told her family that she would be going to the home of one of her friends. Instead, she headed the few blocks to San Fernando Cathedral. She really didn't think that she would see Pedro there, but she felt the need to try anyway.

There, among the crush of Mexican families leaving, she saw him. She wove her way through the crowd, until she was finally close enough to make eye contact with him.

He gave an astonished expression, then smiled that smile that made her warm all over. The same smile he had given her the day before.

He worked his way through the crowd to where she stood. "Miss Oppenheimer. What brings you here?"

"Oh." She tried to sound nonchalant. "I just happened to be in the neighborhood . . ."

"I was thinking about going over to St. Joseph's to look for you, too." Pedro confessed. "Do you want to go for a walk?"

She smiled at him. "I'd love that."

* * *

They continued like this, meeting after mass every Sunday for the better part of a year. Their walks afterwards consisted of long talks and fleeting kisses and caresses.

"I cannot go on like this, Elisabeth." He announced one Sunday.

She was heartbroken. "You don't want to see me anymore?"

He shook his head. "I want to marry you. Let's get married."

"I can't! I . . . my family . . . "

"You don't want to marry me?"

"Of course I do. But it wouldn't be possible. Our families would never approve."

"Then let's not tell them. Let's run away together, and go somewhere where no one knows us. Then we can be Pedro and Elisabeth Chavez and no one will judge us."

She looked at him. "But where can we go? I don't have any money."

"I've saved enough to get us as far away as we'd like to go. In fact, I've heard of a shipbuilder who is looking for a cabinetmaker. I could take that job."

"A shipbuilder? Where?"

"A small town up north. In Maine?" He pronounced it 'Maee-nay.'

The thought of eloping to New England thrilled her. "So when do we leave?" Elisabeth asked.

* * *

It took Pedro some time to apply for the position, which he got, and get everything planned, but soon enough they were headed off to the railroad station, and into their future together.

=Epilogue=

Sadly, Pedro was killed in an accident at the shipyard soon after their arrival in Collinsport. Elisabeth, lacking marketable skills and fearing the wrath of her father should she return home, took a position as maid to Mrs. Quentin Collins.

*Translated from the German? I can't find anything to tell me if folks in the King William District spoke German on a regular basis in 1895.


End file.
